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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511872">Blood in the Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni'>kethni</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Crossing Over [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Veep (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Casual Sex, Crossover, F/M, Major Character Injury</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:49:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth was that Amy wasn’t precisely his “type,” in any number of ways. Small, blonde, neurotic, and most damning of all, immature. Not merely young, although that was also an issue, but emotionally incapable of a mature romantic relationship. If anything, she seemed to find the concept vaguely disgusting. Honestly, if Kent had heard her describe men as having “cooties” then he would not have been entirely surprised.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amy Brookheimer/Kent Davison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Crossing Over [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blood in the Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Anonymous</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Sentimentality was for losers. It wasn’t just blood in the water, it was god damn chum. Sure, yeah, there had been a time when she’d fucked with Dan Egan and a time when she’d <em>fucked</em> Dan Egan, but that time was long past.</p>
<p>She’d tried dating because… that was what you supposed to do, right? One of the milestones: the good job, the car, the house, the husband, the kids. Except that most of the time what they didn’t tell you was that getting the husband and the kids meant losing the good job.</p>
<p>Fuck. That. Shit.</p>
<p>Most of the time sex with some guy didn’t even get the job done. She could count on one hand the number of guys who’d made her come. Dan Egan sure as shit wasn’t on that list and neither was Buddy Calhoun. It was enough to put her off dating a guy in politics. Dating, but not fucking.</p>
<p>Also, she was still close to Sue, and there was a woman who expected their exes to be out of bounds to everyone for the rest of fucking time. Amy didn’t have enough friends to lose one because of a man, even one who gave her everything asked and didn’t ask for anything she wasn’t happy to give.</p>
<p>And, yeah, he made her come pretty much every time. But still, orgasms weren’t worth pissing Sue off. Plus, she didn’t the reputation of fucking every guy she worked with. There were enough rumours going around without feeding them. According to the internet Selina was screwing everyone from Ben to Danny Cheung. Amy never Googled herself. You could go blind Googling yourself.</p>
<p>Amy wasn’t dating. She sure as shit wasn’t dating Kent. They were fucking, casually, as and when they both had the inclination and the time. That was all. In the back of her mind, Amy assumed that at some point in the future she would meet a guy she would want to marry and have kids with. Not in a housewife kind of way. That was never going to happen. But it was the twenty-first century, and everyone knew you could work around all that bullshit these days, if you had the money. She never discussed it with Kent because… why would she? They talked about work. Once or twice they politely pretended to listen to the other one rant about family shit that was getting them down. Stuff you had to do. They didn’t talk about hopes and dreams or any of that gross, sentimental crap. What hopes and dreams could Kent have anyway, he was like sixty.</p>
<p>He was like sixty.</p>
<p>Nobody would expect him to live forever.</p>
<p>Someone sat down next to her. Amy didn’t look. She was vaguely aware of the other person’s legs. Suit pants that had probably been quite expensive when they were bought but they had been battered by continual wear and non-existent care. The shoes were as bad.</p>
<p>‘They say anything yet?’</p>
<p>Ben’s voice was a little distorted. A slight wheeze, yeah, but that’s because he was out of breath. There was a kind of… thickness too. She wasn’t sure what cause that. She didn’t want to look and confirm her guess.</p>
<p>‘No,’ she said. ‘Not yet,’ she said.</p>
<p>The cheap plastic seating creaked as Ben leaned back. It was a “good” hospital, but it was still a hospital. There was the same hint of antiseptic in the air and the staff were all just a little bit too busy to hide their irritation with anyone who wasn’t actually dying.</p>
<p>‘I don’t fucking believe this,’ Ben muttered. ‘Nobody else was hurt let alone…’</p>
<p>Amy sat up. There was a television on the wall in front of her. It was easier to look at that then look at Ben. ‘He was stood up. Everyone else was sat down.’</p>
<p>‘I saw the fucking bus; it wasn’t even damaged all that bad!’</p>
<p>‘Oh, well clearly this is all a mistake then and he doesn’t need to be in surgery at all!’ Amy snapped. ‘If <em>you</em> saw the bus and it wasn’t smashed to shit then obviously Kent can’t have internal bleeding!’</p>
<p>She expected him to yell back. At <em>best</em> he viewed her as an equal and Ben didn’t take shit from his equals. She’d heard him say some nasty shit to his equals, but he could punch down with the worst of them. She’d heard Ben tear subordinates new assholes with downright <em>glee</em>.</p>
<p>Instead he just looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. She’d fucking known it.</p>
<p>‘What’s your problem?’ he asked.</p>
<p>She opened and closed her mouth. ‘What’s my problem?’</p>
<p>‘Yeah. You don’t give a shit about Kent. You weren’t even this upset when Dan had his meltdown, and you <em>like</em> him.’ Ben adjusted his tie. ‘Christ knows why.’</p>
<p>Amy set her jaw. ‘You weren’t even there, and, for the record, Dan had a panic attack! He wasn’t in actual fucking danger of dying, okay? Kent very much is.’ </p>
<p>Ben looked at his hands.</p>
<p>Amy sat back in her chair.</p>
<p>‘Sue’s calling his next of kin,’ he said after a while.</p>
<p>‘The hospital already did that.’</p>
<p>The soles of his shoes squeaked on the tiles as he shifted in his seat to look at her. ‘Hospitals don’t do that.’</p>
<p>Amy shrugged but didn’t look at him. ‘They do if they need a transfusion or something.’</p>
<p>Ben muttered something under his breath. There was a rustle as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘Figures he’s got rare blood or some damn thing. He would have.’</p>
<p>Amy cast a sidelong glance at him. ‘I thought you imagined he had engine oil running in his veins.’</p>
<p>Ben snorted. ‘They definitely wouldn’t have much of that in the blood bank.’</p>
<p>Amy pushed back her hair. ‘Why don’t you go back to the campaign headquarters? Selina must need calming down.’</p>
<p>‘I can’t do that,’ he protested. ‘Trying to calm any woman down has always been a short cut to getting my ass handed to me.’</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. ‘Imagine.’</p>
<p>Ben shifted in his seat. ‘He’s gonna be okay.’</p>
<p>‘Are you asking me or telling me?’</p>
<p>Ben squeezed his hands together. ‘I need a coffee. Do you need a coffee?’</p>
<p>Amy waved a hand at the vending machines. ‘Over there.’</p>
<p>She watched him lurch off towards them. Typical fucking man. He spent half his time talking about how much he hated Kent and how he wanted him fired but at the first sign of any kind of medical issue he was freaking the fuck out.</p>
<p>Amy heard the tap of high-heeled shoes on the tiled floor. She didn’t know who she was expecting. Some ex-girlfriend maybe. Selina if she’d decided visiting the injured might get her some ink or a bump in the polls. Kent would be the first person to suggest that.</p>
<p>Jesus, what the fuck was this woman wearing? It looked like someone had skinned her grandma’s couch. Ugh. The kind of hideous clothing that got passed off as “fashionable” and way too much makeup. Nasty.</p>
<p> The guy had to be next of kin. Amy stood up.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Kent looked like shit. Amy didn’t know what she expected. Internal bleeding was still losing blood so of course he was gonna look like crap. It wasn’t exactly rocket science.</p>
<p>‘I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,’ the other woman said. She’d taken off her ridiculous cape and folded it neatly on a chair.</p>
<p>‘Amy Brookheimer,’ she said shortly. ‘I work for President Meyer.’</p>
<p>‘Oh,’ the other woman said. ‘I see.’ She held out her hand. ‘Diane Lockhart. I’m married to Kurt. Kurt McVeigh.’</p>
<p>One of <em>those</em> women. Keeps her own name and then makes a huge fucking deal about making sure everyone else noticed.</p>
<p>‘Hi,’ Amy said shortly.</p>
<p>Diane cocked her head. ‘Were you in the accident as well?’</p>
<p>Amy blew out her cheeks. ‘It wasn’t even an accident. We hit a pothole too fast and Kent got thrown forward. At first everyone just thought he had some bumps and scrapes.’</p>
<p>Diane shuddered. ‘I defended a case once of a woman who banged her head on a plane. Two hours later she was dead.’</p>
<p>‘Don’t say shit like that,’ Amy said, too quickly and too sharply. She didn’t know why. Tired or something. Hungry maybe.</p>
<p>Diane cocked her head. ‘This is a good hospital,’ she said mildly. ‘Kent’s got every chance of making a full recovery.’</p>
<p>Amy waved her hand. ‘It’s been a long day and I got like… four hours sleep last night.’</p>
<p>The double doors were thrown open and Ben came wandering in, his cell held to his ear. He had another coffee clutched in his hand. Amy didn’t know how the hell he could keep drinking the stuff out of the machine. It tasted like tin and had the consistency of roofing tar.</p>
<p>He took a deep gulp of the coffee, if you could call it that, and shoved his phone into his pocket. He looked at Diane and obviously decided she wasn’t important.</p>
<p>‘She wants me back at the office,’ he grunted to Amy.</p>
<p>Amy shrugged and folded her arms tightly. ‘He’ll be going into surgery soon.’  </p>
<p>Ben picked up his jacket from where he’d left it on the chair. ‘It’ll look better if someone stays.’</p>
<p>Diane laughed slightly and waved her hand when they looked at her. ‘I’m sorry. I was overcome with the compassion and human empathy.’</p>
<p>‘You’re a lawyer,’ Amy pointed out.</p>
<p>Diane smiled slightly. ‘I suppose that I could take offence at that.’</p>
<p>‘Yeah,’ Ben said. ‘If you weren’t a lawyer.’ He pulled on his jacket. ‘I’ll have someone come replace you later.’</p>
<p>‘Not Dan,’ Amy suggested. ‘He’d spend the whole time trying to pick up nurses.’</p>
<p>Ben grunted. ‘Wouldn’t put it past him to sneak into Kent’s room with a pillow.’</p>
<p>‘Oh my,’ Diane murmured.</p>
<p>Amy ignored her. ‘Please, Dan is two steps from being obsessed with Kent. He’s more likely to try to sneak him home and go all <em>Misery</em> on him.’</p>
<p>Ben walked away. ‘I’ll send Richard or someone,’ he called back. ‘Or someone.’</p>
<p>‘He’s charming,’ Diane remarked.</p>
<p>Amy checked her phone. ‘If you listened to Ben, you’d think that he hated Kent.’</p>
<p>‘And what do you think?’</p>
<p>Amy glanced at her, not quite as distracted as she would have hoped to be. ‘You saw him,’ she muttered. ‘He’d been crying. Like, who the fuck does that for some guy they work with?’</p>
<p>Diane handed her a small mirror. ‘Good question.’</p>
<p>Amy looked at it blankly. ‘What’s this for?’</p>
<p>Diane gestured at her eyes. ‘You need a little touch up.’</p>
<p>Amy’s face twitched a couple of times before she managed a fractured, fake smile. ‘Thank you.’</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Kurt was sat in the visitor’s area when Amy returned from the bathroom. He was buttoning up his sleeve. Another older man with a scattering of hair on his arms. Most guys she’d slept with her own age were D.C. guys who shaved or waxed. It came with the territory, like going to the gym or getting their teeth capped. The first time she’d seen Kent naked it had taken her back. He was leaner than she expected, stronger than she expected, much better hung than she expected. Hell, one time he even carried her to bed. She was pretty sure that Dan couldn’t have carried her into bed, even if it had occurred to him to do that.</p>
<p>There were plenty of other things that Kent did that Dan would never think to do.</p>
<p>‘This is Ms Brookheimer,’ Diane said to Kurt. ‘She works with Kent.’</p>
<p>Kurt glanced at her. ‘Hello.’</p>
<p>‘Uh, hi.’ Amy flicked back a lock of hair. ‘Did they say how he was doing?’</p>
<p>Kurt shrugged. ‘He’s gone into surgery.’</p>
<p>Diane stood up. ‘We’re going to dinner. Would you like to join us?’</p>
<p>Amy blinked. ‘Uh…’</p>
<p>Diane smiled encouragingly. ‘He’s going to be in surgery for hours. You’re not going to help him by passing out or falling asleep.’</p>
<p>‘Sure,’ Amy said. People were always telling her that she needed to be better at networking.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Kent awoke in a hospital bed and immediately realised that something was very wrong. He probed his immediate memory but could find no reason for being in hospital and yet here he was. Feeling quite inordinately terrible.</p>
<p>Someone had removed his watch. That was unfortunate. Hospitals appeared to operate on the same logic as casinos when it came to the passage of time. There was no morning or night, merely a kind of eternal twilight.</p>
<p>Kent considered his arms. There were band aids covering spots where injections had been given or blood taken. That wasn’t good. He struggled to pull back the bedclothes and then pull up his top.</p>
<p>The large dark stiches were a vivid slash across his pale skin. His nose wrinkled at the faint scent. There was some sort of antiseptic on the edges but what he mostly smelled was the acrid stink of his own body. Not sweat or the waste products of it but the smell they never tell you about. The smell that lingers on the skin when the skin has been hacked open and then shoved back together. Kent had no medical training. He didn’t know from which part of the body precisely it emanated. He wasn’t a scientist. He couldn’t have identified the chemicals involved. He just knew that it a smell he associated more with his childhood – with that summer his grandmother had stayed with them. The cancer had been deep. Kent had still smelled it on her even after the surgeons had cut, cut, cut away the tumours.</p>
<p>He had been afraid to go into her room. The smell had wound its way under the door and infiltrated the house. The smell of sickness. The smell of pain. The smell of inevitable death postponed just a little.</p>
<p>Kent didn’t think of himself as old. He wondered if anyone did. He worked hard to be fit. To be healthy. To ensure that he didn’t end up relying on the uncomfortable and shifting pity of relatives too busy, too distracted, or simply too young to see him as anything other than a burden.</p>
<p>Just the idea made bile rise in his throat.</p>
<p>Kent tried to sit up, but it felt like trying to bench press a dump truck. He dropped back against the pillows, gasping.</p>
<p>Someone grunted and a noise that Kent hadn’t been consciously aware of, a low, arrhythmic hiss of air, stopped. Ben stood up slowly. Rising into Kent’s view like a particularly elderly Birth of Venus.</p>
<p>‘Oh Christ,’ Ben grumbled. ‘I’ll go get a nurse.’</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Kurt and Diane were nauseating. Nauseous? Amy was never sure of the right term after she heard Kent agreeing with Jonah that he was indeed “nauseous” since he made other people feel sick.</p>
<p>Anyway, they were all over each other and Amy found kissing too much of a PDA, let along Kurt sticking his hand up Diane’s skirt. Jesus didn’t old people have any sense of decorum anymore.</p>
<p>It was a hell of a relief when Diane’s cell chimed, and she went off to answer it. Amy attacked her food with gusto. The sooner she was done the sooner she could get out of here.</p>
<p>Kurt turned to watch her go. When she disappeared through the door her turned to Amy. ‘Is someone feeding Archimedes?’</p>
<p>Amy stared at her blankly. ‘Like… the owl?’</p>
<p>‘What?’</p>
<p>She waved her hand vaguely. ‘In the movie with Merlin and shit.’</p>
<p>Kurt shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’</p>
<p>Amy rubbed her forehead. Kent would have known what she meant. ‘Who are you talking about?’</p>
<p>Kurt took a sip of his wine. ‘Kent’s cat, Archimedes. He’s going to need to be fed and … so forth.’</p>
<p>Amy tilted her head. ‘So forth?’</p>
<p>‘I’m not a cat person,’ he admitted. ‘Kent would have a dozen if he could.’</p>
<p>‘Really? Wow. That doesn’t seem like him.’ She flicked back a lock of her hair. ‘I better get an intern to do it. I barely remember to feed myself and Ben would probably sit on the thing and kill him.’</p>
<p>Kurt flinched. ‘Let’s not do that. Kent is very… attached to his pets.’</p>
<p>‘It’s hard to imagine him being that attached to anyone,’ Amy admitted. ‘He’s not exactly Mr Warm and Fuzzy.’</p>
<p>Kurt played with his fork. ‘I think that at work he must be different,’ he said eventually.</p>
<p>‘Oh.’ Amy crossed her legs. ‘I wasn’t saying there was anything wrong with him being, you know…’</p>
<p>‘Being Mr Cold and Clear?’</p>
<p>Amy shrugged. ‘I’m not exactly a cuddly bunny either.’</p>
<p>Kurt pulled a face. It was the most definitive expression Amy had seen from him. He managed to make Kent look downright expressive. ‘I wouldn’t precisely call Kent a cuddly bunny,’ he admitted. ‘Nonetheless, he would be devastated if something were to happen to Archimedes.’</p>
<p>‘Shit.’ Amy pulled out her cell. ‘Okay, I’ll get someone to go around in the morning to feed him and… whatever. I guess I could go around tonight after this if you have a key or something.’</p>
<p>‘I do. He’ll presumably need clothes and so on.’</p>
<p>Amy shook her head as she sent the text. ‘God, why can’t he be on his third marriage like every other asshole in the West Wing. Some grown up kids. <em>Something</em>.’</p>
<p>She was still looking at her cell and didn’t see the expression that crossed Kurt’s face.</p>
<p>‘We tend to be late bloomers,’ he said mildly.</p>
<p>Diane returned from her call, tucking her cell away. ‘I was thinking, doesn’t Kent have a cat?’</p>
<p>Amy held up her hands. ‘Kurt’s gonna lend me the key to feed the cat and pack a bag or whatever.’</p>
<p>Diane hesitated. ‘Perhaps we should come with you.’</p>
<p>‘Three people to feed a cat?’ Kurt asked.</p>
<p>Diane shrugged. ‘Kent gave the key to you. He didn’t authorise you to give it to someone else.’</p>
<p>Kurt looked at Amy. ‘The legal position.’</p>
<p>‘Huh,’ Amy said. ‘Most lawyers I know are the fucking worst for breaking the law.’</p>
<p>‘The spirit frequently,’ Diane said, ‘but the letter never.’</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Look, on paper Kent and Amy were equals. <em>On paper.</em> In reality they had very different social circles. In theory, she could be going to drinks with Kent, Ben, and the rest of those assholes. In reality, the invitations didn’t come anymore. They <em>had</em> when Selina had first become the Vice President. Not to say that a lot of those guys weren’t sexist assholes, they absolutely were, but it turned out that at a certain level most of them stopped thinking of female staffers as women. Amy hadn’t been sure how she should feel about none of them making a pass at her. She’d made the mistake of mentioning it to Sue who, of course, had made a point of saying that Amy was too neurotic to sexually harass.</p>
<p>All of which was to say that Amy had never been to Kent’s house, socially or otherwise. They didn’t socialise as such. They had sex in hotels. That had been Amy’s stipulation, although now she was rather… irritated that he had agreed so readily.</p>
<p>Kent lived in Alexandria, in a condo in the Old Town. He had a damn balcony with views of the fucking river. It wasn’t huge but it was <em>gorgeous</em>, it was barely a half hour drive from the West Wing, and a two-minute walk from the local amenities.</p>
<p>It also had a cat who came trotting to the door when they came in, and then ran away when it saw them.</p>
<p>‘Oh dear,’ Diane said. ‘I think he was hoping to see Kent.’</p>
<p>‘Kind of hurtful,’ Amy muttered.</p>
<p>‘Cat,’ Kurt said, darkly.</p>
<p>Amy pushed back her hair. ‘I’ll find the kitchen.’</p>
<p>Diane put her coat up on the hook. ‘He’s not the only one uncomfortable around people he doesn’t know,’ she said, looking at Kurt.</p>
<p>Kurt frowned. ‘I’m going to get Kent’s clothes.’</p>
<p>It was so odd. While the walls were the stark white that she would one hundred percent have expected, they were covered in photographs. Mostly of cats, to be honest, but in an alcove, there were what looked like family photographs. There was even one photograph of the boy from the family pictures in posing for a school uniform.</p>
<p>The cat’s dishes were in the kitchen, beneath the table. There were two metal dishes in a little stand and a large, shallow bowl with water all sat on a cream coloured mat with the phrase “Just Purrfect” embroidered in it.</p>
<p>Amy rolled her eyes. Cat ladies got all the abuse but Jesus it seemed like cat men were even worse.</p>
<p>It took her a few minutes to find the cat food: there was a tin of wet food in the refrigerator, covered with a neat little rubber lid, and a sack of dry food in a cupboard. A weirdly rounded fork on the window had “kitty” engraved on it.</p>
<p>Amy had never had a pet. People were impossible enough to cope with and supposedly she knew how people worked. Christ knew how cats worked. <em>Everyone</em> knew that cats were weird as fuck.</p>
<p>She put out some food, replaced the water, and washed the fork. Now all she needed was the stupid cat to actually eat the damn food.</p>
<p>Amy stalked back out of the kitchen. She followed the sound of drawers and doors being opened and closed into the bedroom. Diane was packing a small suitcase.</p>
<p>‘Kinda figured Kurt would be doing that,’ Amy said.</p>
<p>Diane held up a shirt and regarded it critically. ‘He was going to but they don’t have the same dress sense,’ she said. ‘He’s cleaning out the litter.’</p>
<p>Amy found her gaze wandering around the room. ‘Gross.’</p>
<p>‘He used to clean up after Justice,’ Diane said.</p>
<p>Amy’s eyes snapped back to Diane. ‘What?’</p>
<p>The other woman smiled impishly. ‘My dog.’ She zipped up the bag. ‘Do you think we should take the crochet needles and wool?’</p>
<p>Amy opened and closed her eyes as she followed Diane’s offhand gesture towards the bedside table. Something small, green, and partially finished was placed neatly on next to a Kindle.</p>
<p>‘Oh shit, does Kent live with someone?’ Amy asked.  </p>
<p>Diane shook her head. ‘Definitely not.’</p>
<p>Amy chewed her lower lip. Fuck. If he’d made her the other woman then she was going to… light his beard on fire.</p>
<p>‘She might be away,’ she suggested.</p>
<p>‘There aren’t any women’s clothes,’ Diane said. ‘Not anywhere in the room.’ She shrugged. ‘Kent has some eclectic interests. Perhaps crocheting is one of them.’</p>
<p>Amy picked up the needles. The piece of crocheted material looked much too complex to her. ‘It’s tiny. What the hell is it supposed to be?’</p>
<p>‘A very tiny hat?’ Diane suggested.</p>
<p>‘For her, fucking pixies?’</p>
<p>Diane laughed. ‘A finger of an extremely large pair of gloves.’</p>
<p>‘I don’t think his hands are all that big,’ Amy said. She looked at her own hands as she said it. It was a continuing annoyance that nature had seen fit to make her shorter than average and with a small frame. All of her fingers would fit into the strange green dome. ‘Do hands relate to any other body part, like feet and dicks?’</p>
<p>Diane laughed. ‘Not even feet and dicks relate I’m afraid. Kurt has quite small feet.’</p>
<p>It took Amy a second. ‘Way too much information.’</p>
<p>Diane cocked her head. ‘Besides, don’t you know if Kent’s body parts relate?’</p>
<p>Amy rolled her eyes. ‘What did he tell you?’</p>
<p>Diane picked up the suitcase. ‘Nothing. I’m a lawyer. It’s my job to pick up on subtext and I’m afraid you have a lot of it when it comes to Kent.’</p>
<p>Amy scowled at her. ‘Bullshit.’</p>
<p>‘If specificity helps, nobody who wasn’t sleeping with him would be as angry and offended as you were when you thought he was living with someone,’ Diane said more sympathetically.</p>
<p>‘Well, shit.’</p>
<p>Kurt pushed the door open and silently took the case from Diane.</p>
<p>‘Do you have any idea what Kent might have been crocheting?’ Diane asked.</p>
<p>‘Hats,’ Kurt said. He frowned at it. ‘Green? Typical progressive.’</p>
<p>Amy blinked. ‘I don’t even know where to start with that.’</p>
<p>Diane looked out through the door to where Archimedes was creeping into the kitchen. ‘You don’t think he makes clothes for the cat?’</p>
<p>Amy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh God, no.’</p>
<p>Kurt shook his head. ‘He makes them for premature babies.’</p>
<p>The two women stared at him in silence for several seconds.</p>
<p>Kurt vaguely gestured towards his head. ‘They need to conserve heat.’</p>
<p>‘Premature babies,’ Amy repeated.</p>
<p>‘That’s adorable!’ Diane said. ‘I didn’t know that.’</p>
<p>Amy shook her head as he followed them into the corridor. ‘He could just <em>buy</em> all the hats they wanted.’</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>He had been hoping that Amy wouldn’t visit. Honestly, he had thought it extremely unlikely that anyone from the West Wing would visit, her least of all. Yet he was quite sure that he recognised the two-quick, two-short steps marching his way. He didn’t like the word “scurry,” but it seemed annoyingly appropriate for her method of movement. Amy was always in a hurry and generally so hunched or clenched that she gave the impression of being even smaller than she was. Which was something of an achievement given her diminutive height.</p>
<p>It always took him somewhat aback when he saw her in bare feet. While he knew intellectually how much shorter she was, he was so used to seeing her in vertiginous heels that he didn’t give it much thought.</p>
<p>He knew why he tended to be distracted by their height disparity. His therapist had guided him to interrogate thoroughly. When he focused on that, what disparity was he attempting to avoid thinking about?</p>
<p>The truth was that Amy wasn’t precisely his “type,” in any number of ways. Small, blonde, neurotic, and most damning of all, immature. Not merely young, although that was also an issue, but emotionally incapable of a mature romantic relationship. If anything, she seemed to find the concept vaguely disgusting. Honestly, if Kent had heard her describe men as having “cooties” then he would not have been entirely surprised. </p>
<p>If he had been searching for a serious, long-term relationship then Amy would have never occurred to him. Although, of course, if he had been looking for that then Amy would have never slept with him. She had her faults, but she appeared to be extremely well aware of what she did and did not want in a sexual relationship. That was more than could be said of <em>some</em> people, who had given him entirely mixed messages throughout their brief courtship, and then gone out of their way to cause maximum pain at the end of it.</p>
<p>He wasn’t going to make that mistake again and he wasn’t going to chance his heart again for a good long while. </p>
<p>Amy scurried into the room along with Kurt and his wife, Diane. Kent sat up a little in bed. Diane had a tendency to make him feel distinctly second best. As if she were always comparing to Kurt and finding him lacking. No doubt healthy for their marriage but certainly not for his ego.</p>
<p>‘You look so much better,’ Diane said, kissing his cheek.</p>
<p>‘Upright,’ Kurt remarked.</p>
<p>Amy crossed her arms. She was holding something tightly in her hands. A single green thread was looped around her fingers.</p>
<p>‘Ben said that you gave some blood,’ Kent said. ‘Thank you. I donate regularly but there wasn’t enough.’</p>
<p>‘It’s nothing,’ Kurt said gruffly, looking away.</p>
<p>Kent pursed his lips and thought himself lucky that he hadn’t been taught that politely or graciously receiving thanks was somehow unmanly.</p>
<p>‘We fed your cat,’ Amy said, all the words coming out quickly as if she couldn’t hold them in any longer. ‘Got you some clothes and shit.’</p>
<p>Diane held her finger up. ‘And Kurt cleaned up your cat’s actual shit.’</p>
<p>Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘Thank you for not simply shooting my cat.’</p>
<p>‘That’s no sport,’ Kurt retorted.</p>
<p>Amy made a strangled noise. Diane turned to her and waved her hands.</p>
<p>‘It’s fine,’ she promised. ‘They’re just joking.’</p>
<p>‘That’s joking?’ Amy asked. ‘He said Kent would be devastated if anything happened to the cat!’</p>
<p>‘I would,’ Kent said.</p>
<p>Diane grabbed Kurt’s hand. ‘Well, we should be going. We’ve given Amy your spare key for now, Kent.’</p>
<p>He blinked but merely leaned forward a little to kiss her cheek when she presented it. Kurt leaned down and murmured into Kent’s ear, then walked away, holding Diane’s hand.</p>
<p>‘Rude,’ Amy remarked.</p>
<p>‘He said you think I make clothes for my cat,’ Kent said, baffled.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes and held out the crochet needles, yarn, and partially crocheted hat. ‘We couldn’t work out what the fuck it was and then he said it was a hat and I thought he meant for your cat.’</p>
<p>Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘How did you say all that in one breath?’</p>
<p>‘Years of practice,’ she said, screwing her stiletto heel into the floor. ‘Do you know how hard it is getting a word in with Gary and Dan around?’</p>
<p>‘Thank you.’ He put the crocheting on the small table. ‘It helps me unwind.’</p>
<p>‘Tiny hats? Why? Doesn’t that just make you think about all those premature babies and how sick they are?’ she asked.</p>
<p>He shook his head. ‘No. It doesn’t make me think about anything other than following the pattern. It’s very calming doing something of that nature.’</p>
<p>‘Oh.’ She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘You scared the shit out of Ben. He was crying! It was… weird. Don’t do that again.’</p>
<p>Kent interlaced his fingers. ‘His brother died of a brain aneurysm last year. I think he’s a little fragile.’</p>
<p>‘I didn’t know,’ she said quietly. ‘But I don’t think he’d be so shaken up if it happened to Mike or someone.’</p>
<p>‘Poor Mike or someone,’ Kent said.</p>
<p>Amy tightly crossed her arms. ‘Why are you knitting hats for premature babies?’</p>
<p>‘Crocheting,’ he said. ‘But… from your expression I can see that the distinction is of little interest to you.’ He shrugged. ‘I find that it relieves stress and, to be honest, I derive some small feeling of achievement. Much that we do is self-serving and cynical. It is pleasing to do something that feels as if it genuinely helps others.’</p>
<p>‘That’s it? You don’t have some like… dark backstory or something?’</p>
<p>Kent looked at her blankly. ‘Not to my knowledge. I have no personal experience with premature babies.’ He tilted his head. ‘Have I… triggered you in some way?’</p>
<p>She pulled a face but looked away. ‘Just… it’s nothing.’</p>
<p>‘I thought that the report of your miscarriage was a smoke screen,’ Kent said quietly. ‘I was given to understand that you were covering for Selina Meyer.’</p>
<p>Amy nodded automatically. ‘It was yeah. I didn’t know people knew that.’</p>
<p>‘Was there something else?’ Kent asked. ‘You seem somewhat disturbed.’</p>
<p>Amy shook her head. ‘I just… It was a long time ago and it’s no big deal.’</p>
<p>He was quiet for a moment and then touched her knee. ‘No less meaningful for it.’</p>
<p>Amy laughed uncomfortably. ‘It’s not meaningful.’ She hunched her shoulders. ‘It’s nothing. Really.’</p>
<p>‘Okay,’ he said carefully.</p>
<p>‘I miscarried,’ she said. ‘It was years ago. Just out of college. I hadn’t even decided what I was going to do about it.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s nothing. It happens to people all the fucking time.’</p>
<p>Kent patted her knee. ‘It means something if it means something to you. It being meaningful isn’t… shameful or a sign of vulnerability.’</p>
<p>She licked her lips. ‘I hadn’t even decided to keep her.’</p>
<p>‘You should’ve had the choice,’ he suggested.</p>
<p>Amy chewed her bottom lip. ‘It wasn’t like Selina’s,’ she muttered. ‘I had to have a procedure. I just wanted it <em>over</em> and it went on and on.’</p>
<p>Kent grunted in pain as he leaned forward to take her hand and squeeze it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.</p>
<p>She shook her head. ‘I don’t even… I don’t know why I’m fucking talking about this. All because of your weird little baby hats.’ She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. ‘Why the fuck are they green? Even Kurt noticed and that guy looks like he lives in plaid flannel.’</p>
<p>Kent chuckled. ‘Pink or blue hats might potentially cause issues with people with somewhat archaic ideas of gender and sex identifiers. A colour without obvious connections maximises the number of people willing to use them.’</p>
<p>Amy rolled her eyes. ‘You seriously think like that when you’re not at work?’</p>
<p>‘Like what?’</p>
<p>She shook her head. ‘Do you need anything else? Have they said you’re gonna be stuck in here?’</p>
<p>He shrugged and winced at the effort. ‘They hope to release me tomorrow. If someone could feed Archimedes tomorrow morning, I would be very grateful.’</p>
<p>Amy seemed to notice that he was still touching her hand. She reddened and pulled it back before checking her cell. ‘Fine. I’ll feed your cat,’ she grumbled. ‘Maybe this time I’ll actually see it for more than a microsecond.’</p>
<p>‘He’s not used to seeing many people,’ Kent admitted. ‘He’s an indoor cat and I don’t have many visitors.’</p>
<p>‘Maybe take some of the women home that you fuck sometimes,’ Amy said.</p>
<p>Kent raised his eyebrows. ‘The hotel was your idea.’</p>
<p>‘If I’d known what your place was like it wouldn’t have been,’ she said.</p>
<p>He pursed his lips. ‘It wouldn’t be very practical during the day,’ he said. ‘By the time that we arrive there we would need to drive back.’ Kent clasped his hands together. ‘But if you’d like we could go at the weekend or you could visit in an evening.’</p>
<p>Amy shrugged as she tried to look nonchalant. ‘Sure, yeah, we could do that.’</p>
<p>‘If Archimedes hides again tomorrow, I would implore you not to take it personally,’ Kent said. ‘Some individuals simply need more time and space than others to open up and share a part of themselves emotionally.’</p>
<p>Amy’s nose wrinkled. ‘You’re talking about a cat.’</p>
<p>‘That too,’ he said.  </p>
<p>Amy looked at him blankly. ‘Whatever,’ she said. ‘I’m gonna run.’</p>
<p>‘Thank you,’ Kent said. ‘I appreciate your help.’</p>
<p>She shrugged. ‘Next time we bang gimmie more head.’</p>
<p>He raised his eyebrows. ‘Have I failed to satisfy?’</p>
<p>Amy rolled her eyes. ‘God, men. You’re all so fucking insecure.’</p>
<p>He shifted slightly. ‘If I’m not meeting expectations then I would like to know so that I can make amendments.’</p>
<p>‘You meet expectations,’ she said grudgingly. ‘I would just like more. Okay?’</p>
<p>‘Okay,’ he said meekly. ‘Perhaps I was misreading you grabbing me by the hair and physically pulling me up level with you.’</p>
<p>She turned away. ‘Yeah, maybe you did,’ she said, over her shoulder.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Kent took his painkillers in the Uber on the way home. He had promised the medical staff that there was someone at home which had been perhaps less accurate than was ideal. Kent strongly suspected that it was more an issue of insurance than medical care. The thought of spending any extra time in the hospital was simply intolerable. He disliked being away from his home even when it was necessary for work. He had a palpable sense of relief when he reached his own front door and unlocked it.</p>
<p>He was still somewhat confused about his conversation with Amy the day before. It was odd to think of her being in his home without him and bizarre that she was apparently offended that he hadn’t invited her there. She had given him little or no indication of wishing to spend time together socially outside of their lunchtime liaisons. Admittedly it could be quite difficult to imagine Amy being enthusiastic about spending time socially with anyone. She seemed to find the concept baffling and seemed to believe that everyone else was wrong to think otherwise.</p>
<p>Kent was old enough not to take her discomfort personally. He had observed that she was emotionally clenched with everyone, even Dan for whom she seemed to harbour some ongoing emotional entanglement. It wasn’t something that he could understand himself, at least not in the specifics. Dan hardly seemed worthy of anyone’s ongoing and lingering affections, let alone a woman of drive and intelligence. However, he was well aware that this might be considered a somewhat hypocritical stance given that he had at times struggled with overcoming his own lingering affections for former partners.</p>
<p>Archimedes came trotting out to register his complaints about Kent’s absence. Not for the first time Kent thought that he should probably visit the shelter. It was always difficult finding a companion for a pet. He should have done it already but losing Arthur had been hard. Kent had never been good at moving on, with pets or partners. Partners at least could be temporary or casual by mutual agreement.</p>
<p>That had been the case with Amy. As much as they had discussed it in any detail, they had agreed that their liaison would be purely sexual. Kent’s sense of humour had been accurately described as dry and at times as dark. Certainly, he enjoyed some sense of irony in the idea of ascribing a value of “purity” to sex. The truth was that she was better at it than he was. Kent had never been good at separating sex from affection. The best he could do was to honour the agreements that he had made and restrain his own reactions and actions accordingly.</p>
<p>Kent made himself a coffee as he watched Archimedes jump up onto the windowsill and look out at the world. It was an impulse that Kent could understand. People were frequently a mystery to him. It was one reason that he had been drawn to polling and statistics in general. People as groups could be deemed understandable and predictable provided one had enough data. Individuals were full of peculiar quirks and impulses that were impossible to understand or predict. In large enough groups those could be smoothed out. <em>People</em> were comprehensible. A person was inexplicable.</p>
<p>Amy was inexplicable. Everything he knew about her, every interaction he’d had with her, and everything he thought that he had understood about her, led him to believe that she had no particular affection for him. He would have expected her to avoid him if she <em>did</em> have any affection for him, certainly not go out of her way to visit him at the hospital or feed his cat. He had no idea what she meant by it.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>‘What the fuck is going on?’ Sue demanded.</p>
<p>Amy turned around to see if there was someone behind her. ‘Who are you talking to?’</p>
<p>‘You. Obviously,’ Sue said, folding her hands together on her desk.</p>
<p>‘Are you drunk? You don’t talk to me that way!’</p>
<p>Sue pursed her lips. ‘I am entirely sober. Is alcohol your excuse for you sleeping with Kent?’</p>
<p>Amy narrowed her eyes. ‘I am not having this conversation with you <em>here</em>.’</p>
<p>‘In your office then,’ Sue said, standing up and stalking away.</p>
<p>Amy threw up her arms and followed her. This was the <em>last</em> thing that she needed. Jesus, fighting with a friend over a man, were they thirteen?</p>
<p>The worst fucking thing was that she’d brought it on herself. She could’ve been sleeping with any damn man in the whole fucking West Wing but no, she had to pick the one guy with a history with Sue.</p>
<p>Sue was stalking around Amy’s office. Amy shut the door behind her and leaned back against it.</p>
<p>‘Do we have to do this now?’ Amy asked.</p>
<p>‘Yes.’ Sue pursed her lips. ‘You are sleeping with my ex.’  </p>
<p>Amy blew out her cheeks. ‘You guys split up forever ago. You’re married.’</p>
<p>‘That’s not the point,’ Sue said sharply. ‘This isn’t about Kent. This is about our friendship and your lack of respect.’</p>
<p>Amy folded her arms. ‘Okay. Apologies. I should’ve told you.’</p>
<p>‘Yes, you should.’ Sue’s foot tapped on the floor. ‘How long has it been going on?’</p>
<p>‘You know I don’t keep track of shit like that,’ Amy protested.</p>
<p>Sue narrowed her eyes. ‘Work it out.’</p>
<p>Amy pulled out her cell and searched through her texts. ‘Okay, the first time I texted him to come have sex with me was four months ago. So, I guess it would’ve been a few days before that.’</p>
<p>Sue looked out of the window. ‘Is it serious?’</p>
<p>‘No! I mean… It was just fucking,’ Amy said.</p>
<p>Sue looked at her sharply. ‘Kent would never suggest that.’</p>
<p>‘Who cares whose idea it was?’ She pushed her fingers though her hair. ‘We’d been working late. I got some of Ben’s brandy and we had a drink. You know how it goes.’</p>
<p>Sue was tapping her foot again. ‘You went to the hospital. Ben said that you were distressed.’</p>
<p>‘What?’ Amy demanded. ‘He was the one who been fucking <em>crying</em>!’</p>
<p>‘And you fed his cat,’ Sue continued.</p>
<p>Amy rolled her eyes. ‘That was Kurt’s fault. He was banging on about how devastated Kent would be if something happened to Archimedes.’</p>
<p>Sue sat on the edge of Amy’s desk. ‘So? He could’ve fed the cat. You didn’t have to.’</p>
<p>‘What’s your point?’</p>
<p>Sue folded her arms. ‘You’re giving him mixed messages.’</p>
<p>‘He’s not complaining!’</p>
<p>‘Of course not. He doesn’t. He just puts up with things. He deserves better.’</p>
<p>Amy leaned back against the filing cabinet. ‘What do you want from me, Sue?’</p>
<p>‘This clearly isn’t just sex,’ Sue said. ‘I want to know what your intentions towards Kent are.’</p>
<p>Amy shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t fucking know.’</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Kent had been dozing when the doorbell rang. He dislodged the irritated Archimedes from his chest, got up from the couch, and walked to the door. He neatened his hair before opening the door.</p>
<p>‘Hey,’ Amy said, chewing her lower lip.</p>
<p>‘Did I miss a text?’ Kent said, standing aside.</p>
<p>‘I’m not here for sex,’ she said. ‘I mean… maybe after.’</p>
<p>Kent winced as he shut the door. ‘I fear I would only be able to provide manual or oral stimulation,’ he said.</p>
<p>‘Works for me,’ she said.</p>
<p>Kent licked his lips. ‘So… after what will we being doing that?’</p>
<p>She tightly crossed her arms. ‘Talking.’</p>
<p>‘Talking about…?’</p>
<p>She looked away. ‘This. Us. You know. What we’re doing. Where we’re going. All that shit.’</p>
<p>Kent smiled. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk.’</p>
<p>The End.</p>
<p> </p>
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